


Devil On Your Back

by queenlara



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Abusive Dad, Artemis Crock is my child okay, F/M, prepare for feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3431678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenlara/pseuds/queenlara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After her father comes to "visit," Artemis is eaten away by insecurities and Robin comes in to remind her how awesome she is. Post Usual Suspects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devil On Your Back

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own the characters or the universe. I also don't own the song used in the title, by Florence + The Machine.
> 
> I wrote this ages ago, but I'm trying to move some of my fanfic.net and tumblr fics on here. Hope you guys like Traught! Also, it has not been beta-d, but I did look over it and edit it since it was last published on fanfic.net.

Artemis strolls in the cave, hands tucked in the pockets of her soft green hoodie, an old favorite. It's been washed so many times that the color has long since faded from its original forest green, but it's soft and smells like her mother. The hood is pulled up as far as it can go, hanging over her eyes; she takes the long route to avoid the kitchen and the living room. It's a poor attempt at trying to hide from her occasionally over-involved teammates. She doesn't think she can handle any questions, not right now. The archer wouldn't have even come to the cave if it hadn't been to get her ancient iPod that she left here, but even now she decides that burrowing under the covers of her bed is awfully tempting. She can't face her room at home, with the perfectly made-up twin bed next to her unkempt one, like Jade would be coming home any minute. Her face aches, the left side covered in mottled bruises, with a split lip and a cut on her eyebrow. Her abdomen feels like it's splitting open with every step she takes as she limps down the edge of the hallway, so close to her room.

It's funny that what gives her presence away in the cave is her door slamming. Once inside, she locks the knob and pulls off her hoodie and her tank, pretending she doesn't see how broken her body is. She slides down the edge of her bed, clad in only her leggings and a sports bra, reaching under the bed for her emergency first aid kid. Her stomach is made up of colorful bruises, and tiny pinpricks where the blood vessels had broken under the skin. They cluster in large spots, the size of man's foot, and she pushes away the thought. She pulls out a skin balm, dabs two fingers into it, and rubs it on her side. She bites back a cry of pain, the skin was so sensitive, so thoroughly bruised, and she was surprised there was no internal damage (honestly, she had no idea if there was, and tries not to think about it). Her father was precise, and knew how to damage, how to toe the line between permanent and temporary damage. After putting as much pressure on the wound as she could, Artemis stands up, grabs her iPod off the nightstand, and lays on her bed, flicking with the wheel to pick out a song.

Maybe, if she had only one headphone in, she would have heard the knock on the door, and the lock being picked.

Staring at the ceiling, she tries to ignore the incessant throbbing on her face and stomach, and the toe-curling anger. Artemis wishes she could punch it out, but no one that saw the damage on her face would spar with her. Everyone on the team would insist she talk things out, talk about her feelings and her shitty father and her shitty past. She reaches up to touch her face, feel the bruise, flinching when the pads of her fingertips graze it.

**************

"Get out, Dad. You're not wanted here." Artemis snarls at her father, standing in the living room of the small apartment in Gotham. She hates that he's here, _so close_ to her and her mother, and clenches her fists wishing she could do something about it. She pretends that hatred is what curls her stomach, not fear.

"Guess that's something we have in common, little girl." Lawrence Crock responds, tightening his gloves. Artemis, taken aback by that response, takes an uneasy step backwards. "What are you talking about?" She asks slowly, and Lawrence grins, all teeth.

"I know that you think you got the happy ending, the whole picket fence with your friends accepting your dirty past, but really. Who could trust someone raised to be an assassin? Eventually, this will all fall apart, because they can't squelch that small fear that maybe, you aren't as tame as you seem; you aren't as reformed as you claim you are. Genetics are genetics, and Crocks weren't made for the good side. They keep you around because you're useful, like a wild animal, but they're not going to hand-feed you. They're not as naïve as you are." Sportsmaster says, grabbing his mask of the table and snapping it into place. Enraged by his accusation and fueled by the fear that maybe he was right, Artemis leaps out, blind fury making her clumsy, and he blocks her punch and slams his own fist into her face. Blinking away the tears in her eyes, she lunges again, but he strikes her face again, this time smashing into her temple, the metal plate on his glove slicing her eyebrow. Dizzy, she wobbles, and he throws her down, kicking into her abdomen.

"Being with those heroes made you clumsy and too overtaken by emotions," he spits out, disgusted. He kicks her again, and she curls away from his kicks, ashamed of her own weakness and angered by it. Once finished, he steps over her, not interested in his youngest daughter now that she's incapacitated.

"Remember, little girl, once a killer, always a killer," Lawrence growls, disappearing through the open window.

_**************_

Her door opens suddenly, with the Boy Wonder himself standing outside of it. Artemis yanks out her earphones, sitting up in shock.

"I didn't know you were going to be here today," Robin says with his telltale shit-eating grin, but he trails off and his smile fades when he sees her face, shiny and purple. He doesn't speak for a moment, his eyes cataloguing her injuries, and when he speaks, his voice is stiff. The blonde flinches away from his judgement, her encounter with his father and his words to close to her mind.  _Eventually, this will all fall apart, because they can't squelch that small fear that maybe, you aren't as tame as you seem; you aren't as reformed as you claim you are._

_A villain._

_An enemy._

_A killer._

"What happened?"

"None of your business, birdbrain." Artemis snaps, scooting backwards on the bed to lean against the headboard. She glares away from him, out the window, fists clenched.  _Maybe he'll go away, and tell the team that the animal needs to be put down,_ she thinks, and she flinches at the thought.

His lips twitch at his familiar nickname, and as he opens to mouth to continue his line of questioning, she cuts him off with a diversionary tactic. "I know who you are, do you really have to keep those dumb sunglasses on?" Artemis asks, raising an eyebrow and squishing down the pain that comes with moving her facial muscles.

Dick takes them off and tucks them in the pocket of his hoodie, which he discards on the floor by the rest of her clothes. He clambers on the bed, purposefully not moving with the grace she knows he's capable of and scoots towards her.

"Not everyone knows my secret identity, I've got a front to keep up," he teases, a small smile on his face. It quickly fades when his blue eyes land back on the left side of her face, and she curls her hand into a fist to resist covering it childishly.

"Now, back to the matter at hand," He says casually, sitting Indian-style on the comforter next to her. "What happened?"

Her lips curl into a snarl, all of her anger and frustration and insecurities from the past day bubbling outwards. It's easier than be vulnerable, it's easier to pull up that familiar barb-like mask. "I don't need you to pretend to care about me! I'm a tool to you. I know you guys don't trust me, because I was trained to be an assassin, so just stop pretending like I matter, okay? It makes it worse." She turns away from him and slumps against her headboard.

Dick's eyes darken marginally, his face uncharacteristically serious. "Listen here, Artemis Crock. We told you. Your family doesn't matter; the decision to stay with us does. Yes, you're useful, but everyone on this team is useful, it's why we're here. We care about you for you, not because of your skills. You're a part of this team, like we all are." A hand raises to the unmarked side of her face, cupping her jaw and running his thumb along her cheekbone. "We care about you because you're you." He says seriously, dropping his hand, and Artemis briefly misses the warmth.

Closing her eyes Artemis exhales, suddenly exhausted and empty. The words bubble through her mouth before she can stop herself, fueled by the desire to be told she was wrong, that she was a good person.  _Needy_ , a voice that sounds like her father whispers in her mind.  _Needy, and childish. Why do they keep you around?_

"My dad visited last night."

Dick becomes very, very still on the bed, as if afraid if he moves, or breathes, she'll clam up. He's probably right.

"At first I was afraid he came to bully my mom, but he was there…to see me. Just to remind me that I'm still a Crock and blood is thicker than water," she says bitterly.

"And I got stupid," Artemis continues, closing her eyes again and her hand fisting around the sheets. "I got stupid, and he reminded me that he has more experience than me. He pummeled me, like I had no training. I thought I had gotten better…" her hands curl into fists at this. "But apparently, I hadn't." A silence fell, and Artemis didn't want to open her eyes, she wanted to pretend away reality and it's nastiness.

"Artemis." Dick's voice broke the silence, and she cracked open one eye to look at him.

Leaning forward, her pulls her towards him by her shoulders, and wraps his arms around her. She freezes up momentarily, but slowly hugs him back. His head is resting in her shoulder at this point, and she can't imagine that it's very comfortable, but he remains that ways anyways.

"First of all," he beings, voice muffled in her shoulder, "You're awesome. Secondly, your dad is an asshole, but we know that already. Third of all, you're better than you think you are. By so much. Fourth of all, you're a badass but that's common knowledge." He hugs her tightly, and despite her aching injuries, she relaxes in his hold.

She snorts at this, flicking his head. "Flattery will only get you so far, Boy Blunder."

Dick cackles.


End file.
